His eyes were bright with fever, and his untended beard and straggling hair heightened the wildness of his aspect.

But he was in possession of his senses; and as his gaze passed from Bigot at the window to the old Free Companion, who sat on a stool beside him, engaged in shaping a piece of wood into a splint, an expression almost soft crept into his harsh face.
"Old fool!" he said.

And his voice, though changed, had not lost all its strength and harshness.

"Did the Constable need a splint when you laid him under the tower at Gaeta ?" The old man lifted his eyes from his task, and glanced through the nearest window.
"It is long from noon to night," he said quietly, "and far from cup to lip, my lord!" "It would be if I had two legs," Tavannes answered, with a grimace, half- snarl, half-smile.

"As it is--where is that dagger?
It leaves me every minute." It had slipped from the coverlid to the ground.